The One That I Kiss
by Culumacilinte
Summary: It’s a well known story: Judas kissing Jesus to betray him to the Romans, but never does the Bible consider how difficult it must have been for him to do so. JesusXJudas slash


**Title**: The One That I Kiss

**Author**: Culumacilinte

**Pairing**: Jesus/Judas

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: If there's anyone I do not own, it is most certainly Joshua son of Joseph called Jesus the Christ. Most certainly not. I'm not God and I'm not the Pope; I'm not even Christian! Oh well… I'm sure I'll enjoy meself in hell later on.

**Summary**: It's a well-known story; Judas kissing Jesus to betray him to the Romans, but never does the Bible consider how difficult it must have been for him to do so.

**Author's Note**: For my own purposes, I am here picturing Carl Andersson as Judas, and Henry Ian Cusick as Jesus.

"_The one that I kiss... he will be the man you want."_

It was evening when Judas crept back into the small camp they had made earlier on the fringe of Gethsemane; the sun had set and darkness had fallen, but the full moon hung in the sky like a shining silver coin, illuminating the sleeping figures of the Apostles with a strange hoary blue light. Behind him, he could hear the faint clanking of the armour of the battalion of Roman soldiers he had brought with him. There was a quiet curse in Greek, and then all was silent, save for the heavy breathing of the sleeping men.

His eyes flitted around, searching. It would be so easy, really, not to betray him; to kiss one of the others, Simon or James, deep in somnolence beneath the olive trees. Their denial would not put off the Governor or the Sanhedrin; they would expect no less, surely, from a man condemned.

But then he saw him- Jesus, no, _Joshua_- and all thought fled from his mind. He too was seated under a tree, his rough-woven robe slightly luminous in the moonlight, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms clasped loosely around them. One hand absently stroked at his whiskers, a habit of his, and he stared broodingly out over the hills of the Garden. Judas didn't move, didn't even breathe for nigh on a minute, staring at the man he was about to betray, storing this last peaceful image in his mind.

But even as he stared, Joshua looked up, knowing somehow that he was there. His eyes met Judas', and then flicked over his shoulder to where the group of soldiers stood cloaked in shadow. He raised an eyebrow. He knew; how he knew, Judas could not fathom, but he knew, so there was nothing else for it; he shook himself and walked over to Joshua, who stood, rolling his neck and brushing dirt from the fabric of his robe.

"You know why I'm here." The words were hushed.

"Yes." Simple, confirming, nothing more.

"So why don't you run?" Anguished.

A soft smile, "Because I do not choose to."

Judas swore softly, backing up a few paces. Joshua smiled again, though this time the expression was wry. "I know what I have to do, Judas. Yes, I'm scared- I don't know if I can go through with it, but I'm going to try. I have to try." A look, brown eyes glinting with something challenging, something which might have been called mischief, if not for the circumstances, "You've got something to do too, Jude. Can _you_ go through with it?"

"I-" Judas started to speak, but a browned and callused finger touched his lips, silencing him.

"Betray me with a kiss, Judas?" Joshua whispered, his voice tinged with a sort of wistful irony, "isn't that what you said?" When Judas said nothing, a small smile tugged at the corners of the other man's bearded lips.

"You're mad!" Judas hissed.

"Probably," there was a hand on Judas' shoulder then, and Joshua leaned closer, his breath whispering against Judas' ear, "Let's make it worthy of the tales, shall we, Jude?"

And then Joshua was kissing him, kissing him as he'd thought he would never do. His lips were warm and dry, and they curved into a smile as his pressed against them. Hesitant, Judas pulled away, awaiting the sound of the soldiers... but there was nothing. Perhaps they too had fallen asleep, claimed by their god Morpheus; perhaps they were simply not paying attention; Judas did not know. There was a moment where the nighttime noises were uninterrupted until he was shocked to hear Joshua whisper "Now, that was hardly a proper kiss, was it?"

He looked at him in confusion, even more shocked when Joshua's lips were suddenly pressed against his once more, and a tongue curled into his mouth, warm and wet and welcome and how on earth did the man get so good at this? Judas had a split second of amused thought: _So even 'Jesus' isn't immune to the pleasures of the flesh... so much for the sinless son of God. _But even as they kissed, sweet and tasting slightly of desperation, there was a hideous clanking sound and suddenly Joshua was ripped away from him and roughly stood up between two centurions who gave him twin contemptuous glances.

"Jesus, son of the Nazarene Joseph, you are hereby under arrest, and in the custody of the Roman government under Pontius Pilate; have you anything to say?"

Joshua said nothing, but the harsh bark of the centurion's voice awakened the other men sleeping beneath the olive trees, and in a moment, the Garden was a riot of horrible sound- the clash of swords, the yelling and protesting of the Apostles, the clamour of spear against shield, the authoritative shouts of the Romans. The only ones not speaking were Judas, and Joshua himself. Through the turmoil, their eyes met, and Joshua gave him a small smile, inclining his chin ever so slightly in Judas' direction, completely unperturbed by the men battling around him.

Judas felt his back hit the rough bark of the tree which Joshua had been sitting under, and the rough scratch of it as he slid boneless to the ground, his vision blurring and giving way to darkness.

When he came to, the Garden was empty and silent save for the songs of birds and other nighttime creatures; the only signs of what had transpired were a patch of ground more trampled and torn than the rest of the Garden, and here and there the liquid shine of spilt blood. Under a few of the trees there lay blankets where the other men had left them in their haste. The rising sun on the horizon shone with a bloody light, and Judas could hear very faintly a murmur of sound, as of a great many voices shouting together. Then a trumpet rang out; the clear brazen note echoing from the city, and a silence fell.

Judas drew in a great breath and started off toward the city, the light of the morning sun splintering and cracking around him as tears came unbidden to his eyes. The salt-tracks stung as they made their way down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away.


End file.
